


we can talk it so good

by thebearjew



Category: Fantastic Four (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Crack, Not Serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:03:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearjew/pseuds/thebearjew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben is questioned by the feds. Reed comes back for seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can talk it so good

**Author's Note:**

> the thrilling sequel to the _All my intel said you’re not meant to be back until next week and I’m sitting here using your flat as a sniper nest to kill a bad guy. This is awkward._ AU that i.....haven't......finished.....yet. you aren't missing anything, though. my fic hindbrain just decided that finishing this was more important.
> 
> mikki/mikike is short for miklos
> 
> johnny and sue are not married. **ever.**

“Do you recognize this man?”

The agent, who introduced himself as Special Agent Johnny Storm, lays a couple of photos on the table, all of what look to be of the same man. Ben has no idea who the man in the pictures is, but he pulls the pictures towards him, and pretends to study them for Johnny’s sake. 

He repositions himself in the chair as much as he can, with a foot and an arm chained to the table. It’s the worst thing ever, he thinks, because nothing short of hell and high water could prevent him from escaping if he truly wanted to. Which means they haven’t gotten to his service record, or they have and are just posturing. Ben believes the latter, because for all of the intelligence in the world, during his service he’s never once met a CIA agent that wasn’t full of complete bullshit. Unfortunately, he has had to cooperate with other government agencies before; largely CIA, with a handful of FBI, and some NSA agents once or twice. And unfortunately, all of them are experiences he is not eager to repeat. But, Johnny is not yet ticking on his bullshit radar, so that is a plus.

“No,” Ben says, shaking his head negatively. He pushes the photos back toward the center of the table, and looks at Johnny. “I don’t know who he is. I’ve never seen him before.”

Johnny nods, kind of like he knew the answer, and the tiny blonde, Sue, asks, “Does the name Miklos Kovacs sound familiar?”

“That’s Miklos?” He points down at one of the pictures.

Johnny nods, but Sue says, “Do you know him?”

“No, but—“ Something clicks in his mind, and he blurts out, “The murder trial!”

They look at him expectantly, and he continues.

“I’ve been watching the news, and that guy—Kovacs—is a part of it.”

“Close,” Sue replies. “Not quite a murder trial, but he was a key witness. His testimony would’ve put a lot of members from the Latverian mob away. He was assassinated last week.”

“And I’m a suspect,” Ben starts to realize. “Or you think I killed him.”

“You know something.” Johnny begins to speak suddenly. “Tell me, the sliding glass door in your apartment…did you get that fixed recently?”

“No,” Ben states calmly. 

“It seems we have a dilemma then,” Johnny says. “Ballistics tells us the bullet came from somewhere on the twelfth to thirteenth floor. Imagine my surprise when we find remnants of glass shards and gun powder residue, the same type from the bullet that killed Kovacs.”

Ben stares back neutrally. 

“However,” Johnny breaks. “Imagine more of my surprise when we do a little digging and find that you weren’t anywhere near your apartment when Kovacs was killed. You had just barely touched down in New York. I would love to know how you managed to be in two places at once.”

“I live my life one day at a time. Like my therapist suggests,” Ben replies. “I didn’t kill him though.”

“But you know who did?” Sue interrupts Johnny, glaring at him, before turning to Ben. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Ben answers. He pauses for dramatic effect, paying close attention to their expressions. “He said his name was Reed.”

And that gets a reaction out of both of them. They’re good, Ben will give them that, but not good enough to hide expressions quick enough. Johnny blinks a little too quickly, his eyes widening a tad bit; and Sue pales. Both of their hands twitch slightly.

“Awful strange to have given you his name,” Sue trails off.

“Yes.” Ben tries not to look too disappointed. “He literally said ‘my name’s Reed’. I thought it was fake or something, because I don’t know what kind of idiot would give his real name in the middle of an assassination, you know?” Ben waves his hand. “I was…away, but I came home early because of an emergency—“

“Define emergency.”

“My mother was hospitalized.” After a moment of silence, Ben resumes talking. “And when I got home he was in my apartment, putting his gun away. We fight, he puts a bullet in my wall. I throw him through the glass door, he injects me with something. I wake up the next day, to a new glass door and the place looking like nothing ever happened.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Sue agrees. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Tall. White. Dark hair and eyes. He wore glasses, and dressed kind of like a history professor.” Ben scratches his head with his free hand. “I’m sure he’s one of yours—“

“—of ours?” The tiny blonde tilts her head.

“CIA.”

“How would you know that?”

“He fights like he’s CIA…?”

“And suddenly you’re an expert on we train our agents in hand to hand?”

Johnny is officially on his bullshit list. “I’ve run numerous ops with CIA agents,” Ben grits out, “And while I recognize that each individual person has their own fighting style, the basics are the same. So while you all fight different from an FBI agent or what have you, if both of you were to fight each other your individual styles are different, but the blocks on which you’ve built those styles are the same.”

Johnny looks disbelieving, but Sue is contemplative.

“I can’t really describe it,” Ben shrugs ruefully. He knows though. Deep in his gut, or whatever, that this Reed guy is definitely one of theirs. 

Johnny looks to the Sue, who sighs and looks at Ben, before reaching into a bag, pulling out a red folder.

“So he is one of yours,” Ben says, but is ignored as she flips through a good sized stack of papers, before finding the ones she wants, and pulling them out.

They turn out to be more photographs. All of Reed, Ben realizes as he takes his time review them, in earnest. There are three total; the first is a slightly blurry, grainy shot of Reed and another man. They’re leaning so close together, Ben thinks they might be… _kissing_.

“That little shit,” he whispers, holding the picture real close to his face to try and make out what’s happening. 

(They’re kissing.)

The second picture is much clearer, and still of Reed and the other man, but this time they’re standing with a bunch of tough, bodyguard looking types as Reed’s hands are raised in what looks like mid-rant. There’s a prickle in the back of his head, because he knows the man in the picture, but can’t recall why for the life of him.

The third one is a portrait. Reed is staring dead into the camera, with that creepy little half smile on his face.

“This is him.” Ben finally confirms. 

Sue smiles bitterly, and Johnny excuses himself and leaves the room.

“His name is Reed Richards. He’s one of ours.”

“He’s not an analyst is he?” Ben asks skeptically, setting the first photo back in its proper spot. 

She ponders for a moment before answering. “He was.”

_Damn it!_ “But?”

“He impressed the right people,” she says. Ben takes note of the sourness in her voice, and files it away for later. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledges, reflecting on his on service. He sets the pictures down between them. “I do.”

She begins to collect the photos back into her red folder, when Ben stops her, and points to the other man in the first two pictures. “Who’s that?”

“Victor Von Doom.”

“The Latverian arms dealer,” he says immediately.

An arms dealer no more though, he’s moved on to bigger things, if the grape vine Ben has his ear turned to is true.

“We ran into him in Serbia once. Fun stuff. Really,” Ben clarifies at her look of mixed suspicion and surprise. “But last I heard he was supposed to be sitting pretty in ADX for the next couple of lifetimes.”

Her eyes harden, and smiles wryly. “Technicality.”

Ben’s tilts his head in surprise. Well shit. “Must’ve been some technicality.”

“It was,” Johnny’s voice floats from the doorway. Ben watches as he walks around the table, and begins to unlock the chains around his ankle and wrist. “He got out, Richards defects, and two years later we’re still at least five steps behind catching him.” 

“So, he went rogue because you threw his boyfriend in jail?”

Johnny just huffs, a small amused expression on his face. 

Ben hums and starts to rub his wrist. “So what happens now?”

“You go home,” Johnny replies. “Go to sleep. Fix the bullet hole in your wall. And,” he slides a card across the table at Ben. “Call us if anymore strange men appear in your apartment.”

\---

Ben unlocks his apartment door, and stares for approximately for six seconds, before sighing wistfully.

Reed is inside his apartment, standing in the same spot he was last time. This time, however, he brought friends. Muscled friends. Well, four muscled friends, and a kind of scrawny one, whom Ben immediately identifies as Victor Von Doom. Victor is lounging in the living room in Ben’s favorite chair, with his feet propped up on the coffee table, head tiled back and eyes closed.

Two of the men are standing off in the kitchen, where his guns are kept of course, and the other two are lounging the living room doing…God knows what. His apartment’s too small for them to pretend that they’re not eavesdropping.

“Hi Ben,” Reed enthuses, wiggling his fingers. 

“I didn’t know we were on a first name basis?” Shitshitwhatthefuckshit. “You should know I’m not that kind of man, Mr. Richards.”

Reed smiles again, wider and Ben still hasn’t come up with a solution that gets him out of this alive. Fuck his security deposit.

“I see you brought…friends,” Ben continues. “You haven’t introduced me.”

Reed laughs, a lovely sound under different circumstances, and strokes the top of Victor’s head. “This is my serious committed relationship.”

Victor opens his eyes, and glares lazily, before closing them again.

“And they’re here to kill you if you don’t cooperate,” Reed finishes in a grand gesture, still smiling.

That took a drastic turn, Ben thinks as he visually sweeps the kitchen and living room again.

“Well, I have to say there’s a slight problem with that,” Ben admits. He shuffles, and the men surround him start to twitch. “I don’t particularly feel like dying today, but I don’t think I can go along with any of your dastardly plans.”

“Ah, and if it weren’t for those meddling CIA agents,” Reed says. “But it’s not like that. I meant don’t try to kill me, and you won’t die.”

“With what weapon?”

“You don’t have to play coy with me, Commander.” Reed stares straight through him, and Ben's Spidey-senses begin to tingle. “You don’t need a weapon to kill me.”

“You’re right. That wasn’t very nice of me.”

“But if it makes you feel better…” And he nods, and of the guys opens the freezer, reaches under a bag of cranberries, and pulls out his Glock. 

“Thank you. For that.”

“Anytime. I heard you had a chat with Johnny and Sue? How was that?”

“Fantastic.” Ben observes Reed puttering around, looking pictures, his medals, things that Reed’s probably already seen and analyzed. “I get rudely snatched in the dead of night by the government, and interrogated for two hours for an assassination I didn’t carry out, all because you decided murder is fun.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve been snatched by a governing body.” Reed snorts amused, and Ben bristles at that statement. “You would’ve rather been blamed for an assassination you did carry out?” 

“I wouldn’t have caught.”

"Okay.” Reed smiles cryptically. “I have my reasons, but in case you were wondering, Miklos was a liar, and a murderer. He betrayed his family.”

“I wasn’t wondering—" Ben continues to note Reed pacing around. He drops a hand to Von Doom's head, and stares off into space. "—but you’re not? A liar, a traitor, or a murderer?”

“You’ll find the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

“And you’ll find that once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.”

“But there is no ignorance, only knowledge.”

“Ignorance, yet knowledge,” Ben corrects.

Reed grins again, oddly happy. “I actually didn’t come to argue Star Wars with you. I just wanted to find out Johnny and Sue told you. But I don’t think you’re willing to tell me.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“I figured as much.”

Reed motions, and in the split second it takes Ben to react, someone is behind him, a needle pressing into his neck.

“Damn it,” he mumbles, vision going black as he crumples to the floor.

“That’s two for zero, Commander,” he hears Reed say before he passes out.

\---

   
“Are you finished playing with your food?” Victor cracks on eye open, and gazes at Reed.

“For now.”

“What do you need him for?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you need him?” Victor rolls his eyes, and hooks his chin over Reed’s shoulder. “How do you know him?”

“This is where I shot Mikike,” Reed says. And then he switches to Latverian. “ _Turns out, it's being rented by Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Jacob Grimm, and that we was to be gone for the entire week_.”

“ _Okay?_ ”

“ _He works for Petya_.”

“ _Petya? Who is Petya_?”

“ _Piotr_.”

“ _Why didn’t you just say Piotr?_ ”

Reed opens his mouth, then closes it, trying to find something to say.

“ _Why do you call him Petya_?”

“ _Everybody calls hi—_ “

“ _Since when do you call him that? How long has this been going_?”

“ _Victor_.” Reed lets out an annoyed sound. " _Literally, everybody calls him Petya_.”

“ _I don’t call him that_ ,” Victor scoffs. “ _Stop calling him that. Do I need to talk to him?_ ”

“ _No_ ,” Reed says quickly. Then, “ _Yes. Maybe_.”

Victor face is crafted blank, but he raises his eyebrow.

“ _Andrei bugged Ben’s apartment_.”

“ _Why would I care? And how is this relevant to Piotr?_ ”

“ _Ben works for him_ ,” Reed repeats. He reaches inside of his jacket pocket, and pulls out a tiny baggie with three small, shiny black discs, about the size of a nickel. “ _When I came in, I found the entire place bugged. Piotr and Andrei know each other, but Andrei doesn’t know Ben. Why is he watching him?_ ” He drops the bag into victor’s hand. “ _So yeah, you might want to have a talk with Piotr._ ”

Victors heaves a sigh and begins to pace, muttering to himself. Reed strains to hear, but he catches something that sounds like, ‘I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.’

“ _Who Andrei?_ ”

“ _Both of them!_ ” 

Reed refrains from rolling his eyes. “Calm down before you work yourself into another migraine.” He gets into Victor’s space, and cradles Victor’s head, who just frowns even more. “Keep both of them alive for now. Petya has a couple of uses left in him. Get rid of Andrei as soon as you get what you want.” 

“I don’t want anything from him.”

“I want to know what he’s got planned.”

Victor removes Reed’s hands and looks at him skeptically.

“Give me a week.”

“You have four days,” Victor replies. “But what’s he for—“ he motions in Ben’s direction. “We have enough mechanics.”

Reed shrugs. “I’ll find something for him.”

“No.”

“Victor.”

“I don’t need an ex-military mechanic. Get rid of him.”

“I’m ex-CIA.”

“That’s different.”

“Dammit, Victor!” Reed snaps. “You need stop being so damn jealous! I said I’d take care of it!”

It’s still, and Reed glances around to see that all of their guards have mysteriously vanished. They might’ve left during his brief screaming match, but it’s a known thing that there are only two people in the world that can put up any kind of fuss with Victor and live. Reed, sometimes, is one of them.

“Like you took care of Mikki.” There’s a small smile on Victor’s face, and Reed pales.

“He came home earlier than he was supposed to. That’s not my fault.”

“No,” Victor says. He traces the shape of Reed’s mouth, before leaning in and whispering. “But you made a mess by letting him go. And you know I feel about cleaning up messes from people who should know better.”

Reed purses his lips but says nothing, because he knows Victor is right.

“I’ve been indulging you for far too long if you think you can talk to me with such blatant disrespect.”

“I’m sorr—“

“No, you’re not. You’re cute, and put me in a good mood, but one day that might not be enough. I’m the head, which means I’m in charge. Do you need another reminder?”

Reed bites his lip and looks down. Victor might be the head, but Reed is the neck, which turns the head in either direction. 

Victor grips his chin, forcing him to look up. “Do. You need. Another reminder.”

“No,” Reed says. “I have accepted Victor Von Doom as my lord and savior.”

Victor Looks at him again, and starts to say something else but one of the guards calls out “Sir!” and pokes his head around the doorway. He doesn’t say a word, just nods once, and Victor nods back.

“Take him to the house on 5th,” He orders, gesturing towards Ben’s unconscious body, watching shrewdly as the same guard picks him up like a sack of flour, and hauls him out of the door. He and Reed follow suit, and the other three guards come out of their hidey holes, and take the rear.

“ _You have until the end of the year to make him useful to me_ ,” Victor says, switching back to Latverian. He’s staring straight ahead, not looking at Reed, but he’s got his arm around Reed’s waist. So that counts for something. “ _Or he’s dead_.”

“ _The year ends in three months_.”

“ _You have until the end of the year_ ,” Victor repeats, his tone of voice brokering no arguments.


End file.
